Whoever can strike me hard will be rewarded handsomely.

The music resumed, the powerful notes flowing from the fingertips, the fierce intent soaring to the heavens.

The strings vibrated like clashing metal, and the sound was like ten thousand horses galloping.

A chilling murderous intent pervades the air, and danger lurks everywhere.

After a sudden rise in melody, it was as if a colossal object had collapsed with a crash.

The thunderous force swept across the surrounding area.

Then, the music gradually slowed down, and looking around, the landscape was ravaged.

With a few strums of the strings, the perspective seemed to instantly rise to the heavens and earth, looking down from above.

The sky and earth are vast and boundless, the mountains rise one after another, birds return to their nests, the world is bustling, and everything has returned to order.

The one playing the zither alone is enveloped in boundless loneliness, his whole being shrouded in desolation and solitude.

Suddenly, the tone changed abruptly, catching the listener off guard, as if they had stumbled into an unknown and mysterious world.

The vibrant, warm colors that permeate this solitary melody transform the world, brightening the listener's mood somewhat.

Until a sense of unease and anxiety began to emerge, as if there was an infinite attachment and reluctance to part with someone or something.

Loneliness and warmth are intertwined, and joy and fear are interwoven.

That warmth was like a ray of moonlight—you couldn't hold onto it, and you couldn't let it go.

Only the anxiety of gain and loss lingers in the hearts of the listeners.

Accompanied by a few scattered overtones, like a sigh or a soliloquy, they disappeared into the mountain wind.

Then it stopped abruptly, and all was quiet.

The students were still immersed in the afterglow and could not come back to their senses for a long time.

Jiang Jibai looked towards the young disciple by the stream.

The sound of the zither is like the sound of the heart.

The seemingly lively and carefree young disciple actually possesses such a complex inner world.

The sounds of battle and devastation, the boundless loneliness, in the music might also be connected to his identity as a secret guard, assisting the emperor in punishing treacherous officials.

The brightness and warmth can be attributed to his family and mentors.

So where does this fear of loss and that slight "fear" come from?

What is he uneasy about?

Zhao Siye led the applause.

Applause broke out in twos and threes, then grew louder and louder, startling the birds roosting in the woods.

The young man playing the zither not only possesses a mature skill beyond his years, but also brings them an emotional resonance that touches their souls.

The first and second halves of the piece are very different in style, but when woven together, they do not sound awkward at all. Even a ruthless person can have a tender heart.

Xie Wumian, the organizer of the poetry gathering, stood beside Zhao Siye. In the first half, he was merely amazed, but in the second half, his eyes were lowered and his eyes silently welled up with tears.

As the applause subsided, he took a deep breath, stepped forward, and asked, "What's the name of this piece? I don't think I've ever heard it before."

This question reflects the sentiments of many students.

They had never heard such an extraordinary piece of music before, and they were eager to know its name, composer, and background.

Qin Ji's gaze pierced through the white gauze and landed on the scholar dressed in the same style as him. His voice was calm, revealing little emotion. "I found it in an ancient score. The composer and background are unknown. I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint Brother Xie."

He played impromptu, expressing his feelings directly, but he couldn't possibly understand the piece.

Jiang Jibai, with his keen insight and sharp mind, inevitably connected the music with the composer's life.

His disguise was already on the verge of collapse, and it couldn't withstand further scrutiny and speculation.

By blaming it on some vague and ancient record, at least they wouldn't give Jiang Jibai any grounds to criticize them.

"As for the name, I've only come up with one by far, and it might not really match the melody."

Yu Tingyuan asked curiously, "What's your name?"

Qin Ji uttered a few words, a hint of sadness in his voice, "His fate is uncertain."

The students: "..."

The name is indeed a bit of a stretch, and it doesn't seem to have much to do with the tone of the song, especially the first half.

However, if we were to point out any discrepancies, it would subtly connect with the latter half of the story.

Being preoccupied with gains and losses, like trying to catch the moon's reflection in the water, isn't that just like having an uncertain future and an uncertain fate?

Xie Wumian glanced thoughtfully at Zhao Siye beside him, thinking to himself: Where is it far-fetched? Not at all. I think it's just right.

Zhao Siye snapped out of his reverie, "I feel this piece is unfinished; is there a second half?"

Qin Ji lifted his hand from the strings and nodded slightly. "This is a fragment. The ancient score only contains these parts; the second half is lost."

Zhao Siye sighed with regret, "What a pity."

"Pei Lian." He looked at his youngest disciple.

Pei Lian bit his lower lip and looked deeply at Qin Ji, whom he had once belittled as a fool.

He is arrogant and disdainful, but that doesn't mean he's blindly conceited or ignorant of his own limitations.

When he heard Jiang San pluck those strings earlier, he had already realized that this person's musical skills were extraordinary.

But even just a short while, he could always find some solace in his heart.

Now there is no longer any room for self-deception.

In terms of musical skill, he was far inferior to "Jiang San".

There is absolutely no chance of winning.

If one admits defeat at this point, one can still retain a shred of self-awareness and composure.

Pei Lian moved her lips in despair, but swallowed the words of surrender that were on the tip of her tongue.

He can lose, but he cannot be a coward who retreats without a fight.

There is an insurmountable mountain in front of us. Should we stop here and turn back?

No, he was the teacher's proudest and most outstanding disciple.

He was a child prodigy admired by everyone.

He can lose, but he cannot back down.

If there are insurmountable mountains in front of him, then he will trek through them. Even if he can't climb them and become the best, he will still strive to be the best version of himself.

Pei Lian walked to the guqin and sat down amidst the students' sighs of regret and sympathy.

He bit his lip, ignoring the various gazes around him, and a clear and resolute melody flowed from his fingertips.

It was a piece called "Unyielding," which, even if not as moving as Qin Ji's piece, perfectly captured his state of mind and showcased his virtuosity to the fullest.

He broke through his own limits.

Pei Lian lost this match.

But Zhao Siye's gaze towards his young disciple was not one of disappointment; instead, it carried a hint of satisfaction and pride.

Be able to accept defeat and not be discouraged by failure.

Regardless of whether he wins or loses today's match, his young disciple's future is limitless.

The second round was a contest of poetry and prose.

With a smile, Liu Jijiu said, "As a third party, how about I set the topics for the second round of poetry and prose?"

...

Second update delivered, goal achieved, double updates tomorrow.